TWHLAY 1:1

 

 HereForTheFanficsAndRomance Presents:

The Way He Looks at You
Book 1

A Cal Kestis Fanfiction

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Summary:

After a devastating breakup with her Jedi boyfriend, a grieving Rebellion pilot is captured by a ruthless, yet alluring, Inquisitor. He offers to protect her secrets in exchange for her loyalty. Torn between the duty-bound Jedi she lost, and the Dark-Side enemy who wants to possess her, she must decide where her heart truly belongs. 

 

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This story is available in First Person and Second Person points of view.

 

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Song for the Book: Do It All The Time by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

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Chapter 1: The Way He Looks at You

Chapter Summary: A night of passion leads to heartbreak and the worst-case scenario.
Trigger Warnings: None
Song for the chapter: When I'm Older by Ashe

“You look nice,” Theo says as he enters our shared home.


His eyes trail over my pastel green dress. They linger where I hoped they would, tracing the low-cut neckline and the swell of my breasts. I offer him a soft smile in place of the overwhelming excitement in my stomach.


He’s reserved, not blind. I knew he would notice the new dress I bought, but I wasn’t sure he would comment on it.


Theo unpacks his bag, large hands spreading the contents on the kitchen counter, considering them, and repacking only what he needs for tomorrow. He has done this every day since we moved into the safe house together. It’s a ritual that I assume he’s kept since childhood.


His unwavering loyalty to the Code is apparent in every action. Despite losing everything, he’s never strayed from the old teachings. His dutiful nature drew me to him. How could I resist a dedicated man?


Theo is the epitome of what the Jedi Order stood for. He’s level-headed, knowledgeable, strong, and good. I am an unfortunate stain on his otherwise pristine image.


I didn’t mean to seduce him. At least not at first. Theo requested my transfer to his team the first day of my relocation. I hadn’t even met him, yet he asked for me by name. One doesn’t reject an offer to work with the Jedi on base.


My first briefing as the team’s new pilot left me captivated by Theo’s tranquil beauty as he led us. His tan skin, unruly dark hair, and smooth Core Worlds accent made him appealing to my senses.


Afterward, he introduced himself in his soft voice. Despite being significantly taller and having an athletic build, he didn’t feel dangerous. He held himself in a way that was nonthreatening and gentle.


I couldn’t believe this calm, gray-eyed man was a capable warrior until I saw him in action through the viewport of the cockpit as we made a mad dash to rescue him from a rather large group of stormtroopers.


He was a different man out on the battlefield, someone I assumed he disliked being. I was never sure if it was the violence or hatred of his kind that kept him from discussing his emotions around our missions.


He fell injured on my first assignment, and already in too deep, I left my duty to my copilot after entering hyperspace. I had the most pleasurable privilege of helping him remove his shirt to patch him up. My fingers lingered too long on his taught skin as I snuck glances at his firm chest. It was the first of many times we allowed the charade of tending to his injuries to mask our true feelings.


My yearning for him grew, but he was slow to reciprocate. It took a long time before he admitted to having feelings for me. But even with the admission, he wouldn’t act on those feelings.


All I want is Theo’s love, and to have a normal, adult relationship with him. One with physical intimacy. The romance takes patience, allowing Theo time to weigh the pros and cons of each milestone. Today, I’m hoping to achieve the final stage of a long-term relationship: sex.


With a measured breath, I stand from the threadbare sofa to greet my boyfriend as he finishes packing his bag. I rest my hands on his chest and lift to my tiptoes to kiss him hello. Theo’s hands find my hips, as they always do during this domestic routine.


His touch is gentle as he allows his fingers to brush the soft new fabric before settling in to hold me against him. He is tentative at first, but with coaxing, each kiss lingers longer than normal, his tongue taking progressively longer to exit my mouth. It’s slow, controlled, and has a building intensity I’m afraid will disappear if I make the wrong move.


I let him lead, my legs trembling as I hold myself in this raised position. He offers me relief when his hands drift down to wrap around my thighs, pressing into the soft bare flesh, and hoisting me to sit on the edge of the counter. He makes space for my body by shoving his bag back, which knocks into an unwashed cup. Theo’s fingers peel off my thigh to freeze the glass mid-topple. It settles itself back onto the counter, and his fingers return, sliding higher, breaching the short hem.


His kisses are slow and sensual, but there is more force behind them than prior sessions. My movements are steady as I glide my hands onto his shoulders. The pads of my fingers slide into his hairline, pressing up to scratch at his scalp with the backs of my nails. He groans into the kiss, and I swallow it down.


I wait for the inevitable moment he pulls away, worried I pushed too far, but he doesn’t.


Instead, he grinds forward against the exposed fabric of my undergarments. My legs spread further to accommodate him. I want him to know he is welcome here, that I want him here.


The feeling of his obvious need rubbing against me invokes a small sound of pleasure that I muffle, afraid it will ruin the moment. Like his ears will perceive the noise and trigger a lockdown of any further intimacy.


Theo wraps my legs around his waist and lifts me off the counter, carrying me towards his nearby bedroom. A flush of arousal pulses through my lower body. My heart hammers in anticipation as he opens his often-closed door.


He sets me down on the bare floor at the edge of his bed. Our lips separate as his hands finger the hem of the dress, his forehead pressed to mine.


“May I?” Theo asks, the huskiness of his voice offsetting his polished accent.


I nod and help him pull the fabric from my body, my focus trained on each searing place his fingers brush the skin beneath. Hands trace my outline, his breath hitching where there are soft curves to press into. The gentle touch is electric against my eager skin. I long to touch him back, to feel every bit of him beneath my fingertips.


His lips find mine again, a sense of urgency evident in the messy way his tongue greets mine. Theo pulls me flush against him, tipping my head back to allow him deeper access to my mouth.


It’s always exhilarating when he kisses me like this, using his height to his advantage and making me dependent on his tongue dipping down to continue the kiss. Theo only kisses like this when he is in a playful mood, giving me barely enough until I suck at his tongue to pull him further against my mouth.


This time when I suck on it, he holds my hips still and grinds his clothed erection against me again. He breaks our kissing to ask permission before removing my final articles of clothing, leaving me naked.


I cling to my boyfriend, wishing he were not so clothed while I’m exposed. Theo pulls away, leaving me cold as my heart sinks. He’s realizing this has gone too far.


Theo draws back and allows his eyes to rake over my body. His stormy eyes appear black in the low light, the setting sun peeking through the curtains. My body warms as I look into his lust-filled eyes, reassured that he will finish what he started.


Theo tears his clothes from his body as if they’re on fire. I’m not given a chance to enjoy the sight of him—his sculpted body, his erection standing at attention against his lower belly—because he closes the distance, capturing my lips and pressing me down onto his bed.


My disappointment doesn’t last. Once he’s secure in the full extent of physical intimacy, I’ll have more opportunities to see him naked. I’ll let him clear this last hurdle before asking for more.


My knees fall open, revealing the part of me that has ached for him since we met. He fills the space as he tugs my hips into position. The movement is forceful and so different from his typical control.


Despite his lack of experience, Theo’s body seems to know exactly what to do as he aligns himself. He presses forward, sinking into me in one slow and delicious stroke.


My head falls back at the familiar and long-awaited stretch that fills me to the brim, drawing soft lovemaking sounds from both our lips. Theo stills once fully sheathed, which I am grateful for, having been out of practice since dating him.


I drag him down to kiss me, not holding back for the first time. Theo follows my lead, letting me take control.


Theo’s fingers dig into my hips, holding me in place as he moves. He is slow at first, dragging himself out until only the tip fills me. His eyes squeezed shut as if he’s using all his willpower to endure the sweet pleasure.


With a few practice strokes under his belt, Theo takes a rougher pace. I try to meet his thrusts, but he’s stronger and prevents my friction-seeking movements. As if he can only hold me down and rut on instinct.


The angle prevents him from stroking deeper. I’ll show him a better position next time. One that makes my eyes roll back in satisfaction.


Without a say in the lower half of my body, I focus on raking my fingers over the curves and contours of his muscled upper body. I’ve never bedded a man as powerful as Theo. His physique is perfect and addicting. I run my touch along his chest, stomach, biceps, and end on his flexing shoulders, pulling him in to deepen our kiss.


I’m lost in the more aggressive, teeth-clacking kiss as he thrusts into me. Theo’s eyes screw shut, and I hold him tight, needing nothing but this moment with him.


His quick pace stutters and slows to a few deep strokes as he finishes inside me with a low groan. I didn’t stand a chance of joining him with how short the encounter was. But I hold him, reveling in feeling his cock twitching deep inside me, kissing his lips, his nose, his eyelids, and every part of his skin I can reach as he comes down from his high.


Theo pulls out, dragging me to cuddle against him and nestling his face against my neck, breathing me in. His damp hair clings to his forehead, and I stroke it back.


“Thank you.”


“I love you, Theo.”


“I love you, too.”


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I wake under Theo’s scratchy cream sheets, stretching with a smile on my face as I recall last night’s events. As I sit up, the covers drop from my still-bare body.


Theo is sitting at the foot of the bed, fully dressed, with his back to me, reading something on his datapad. There is mild disappointment in seeing his clothes, but I can’t expect too much from my no-longer-celibate Jedi. But I wish I could have seen what he looked like naked in the early light.


I crawl towards him, hoping to pull him back into bed and remove some of his layers. My fingers slide over his shoulders to wrap my arms around his neck.


He shrugs me off.


Fear rises in my throat like bile. “Theo, is everything okay?”


He turns his head, but his eyes don’t follow. “Can you please put your clothes on?”


My heart hammers, and my fingers shake at his request. This isn’t like him. Amid intimacy bordering on crossing a line, Theo would reject me in a breathless voice tinged with reluctance.


This time is distant and too controlled. I can’t remember a time he’s ever spoken to me with such unfamiliarity. Even when I worked with him, his tone was full of familiarity and soft joy.


My face heats in humiliation as I dress. I’m too exposed wearing this shameful dress, the one I bought because it showed off the curves of my body. I would rather be covered head to toe in my flight suit.


As I finish dressing, Theo turns to face me without meeting my eyes. I approach him, my hands reaching towards him, desperate to close the growing space between us. To touch his skin and soothe the fear and suffering in him—and me.


“I made a mistake last night. I have strayed from the Code.”


My fingertips freeze and drop to my side. Everything is falling away, like the planet is disintegrating while I stand atop it. My ears ring, and my mouth falls open, words of protest dying on my tongue.


“Please go back to base; you are a valuable asset to the Rebellion. We need competent people like you there,” he says.


The compliments he attempts to give are meaningless to my heart. I don’t want him to tell me I’m good at my job. I want him to tell me he loves me and sees a future together. He’s removing me from his life; he just won’t say the words.


“Are you breaking up with me?” I ask, my throat dry and my words hoarse.


His lingering silence leads me to believe he didn’t hear me. But when I check his hardened eyes, I no longer see the man I love. Theo has stopped loving me.


“Yes.”


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Hot tears stream down my face, dripping heavy drops onto my dusty brown leather boots as I walk through the bustling streets of Coruscant. After Theo closed me out of his room—and his life—I couldn’t stay.


So I fled, taking only the clothes I was wearing, expecting to return after he goes to bed. I can sob into my pillow in the late hours when he won’t hear.


In any large city, people give unstable individuals a wide berth. Hysterical women sobbing in the streets are no exception.


I am given ample space to walk toward my unknown destination. No one will acknowledge me, let alone harass me. It almost makes living here bearable.


I’ve always hated living near the Imperial Palace, but agreed to it upon finding out Theo was moving, with or without me. I left behind the base, friends, and creature comforts for an isolated home with him. It was a sacrifice I made willingly to continue our happy relationship.


A fresh bout of tears wells up in my bleary eyes as I remember all I gave up for Theo. I won’t return to base without him. I can’t bring myself to explain why I’m moving back alone. My old life is over, leaving me unsure how to move forward.


A tall, firm body takes me by surprise as I collide with it, adding insult to injury. I stumble back, mumbling a weak apology.


Silence ripples through the immediate area.


There is no forgiveness for my error as a gloved hand wraps tight around my upper arm, preventing my escape. The long fingers are stronger than the average humanoid. My captor exudes an air of danger and dominance.


My tears and sniffling cease, and my breath becomes shallow. Dread prickles up my spine, rendering me frozen as the man—I assume it’s a man—adjusts his grip.


“You should really be more careful,” he says, his tone low and threatening.


My free hand wipes the tears from my eyes to survey his hold on me. A woolen black cuff meets his leather glove, hiding any traces of his identity. Though the black is damning enough.


My gaze traces up the stiff fabric of the sinister uniform until I am eye level with the white cog-like emblem that marks him as a servant of the Empire. White on black—that narrows down his identity, but not in my favor.


If I’m lucky, he’s a Purge Trooper. My eyes flick to his hips, praying for a blaster or stun baton to hang there. Instead, I glimpse a durasteel rod, a lightsaber.

Playlist for the Book: The Way He Looks at You

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